Under the Egyptian Moon
by Sweet Drop of Lemon
Summary: There were only eight of them. Eight mortals against the shadows. . But it was the will of the gods for them to fight, so they would. No matter what the cost. Ancient Egyptian ficYaoi: SJ YY RB MM KK
1. Shattered Minds and Broken Wings

_**Under the Egyptian Moon  
**  
Written by Silver Sage  
_

_(Romance - Pairings at bottom)_  
_(Action/Adventure)_  
__

_Summery:_ _Thousands of years ago, during a dynasty long forgotten, there lived eight souls different from those of the human race. In a world where people were all part of some sort of union, these eight individuals lived apart from everyone else in a class all their own. Each had a gift given to them from the gods themselves and they were very different from the other, but this one thread of magic was slowly bringing them together.  
  
They had been pulled to the center of one of the most powerful contries of the world, Egypt. Some mysterious force had slowly guided them across desert and water alike to end up in a city at the center of a great circle of magic. Eight different hearts and minds were drawn there and were all unknowingly about to collide, clash and, if the gods had it their way, bond with one another. Evil was forming somewhere in the world and these eight had been chosen to stop it. _  
_-,-'-,-'-,-'--_

The city was quiet that night. Torches had been put out long ago, diminishing all light on the streets, city walls, and Pharaoh's palace. Even the moon, it seemed, had been snuffed like a candle and all was still, dark, and silent except for the faint whistle of wind that bounced around the dark alleys and slipped under the cracks of doors.  
  
Not a thing moved that night making it seem as if the entire desert itself was holding its breath waiting for some unknown phenomena to take place.  
  
The wind continued to make its way lazily through the streets like a small child exploring his surroundings with innocent curiosity. It snuck through windows and whispered unheard words to the residences. Then it plunged into the night again to resume its journey.  
  
It floated carelessly forward, seeing nothing of interest until two disfigured lumps hidden in the dark corner of a narrow alley crossed its path (Though it wasn't their fault since everywhere is the wind's path.)  
  
One of the lumps moved slightly, a sudden jerk as if it'd just been woken up. The other shadow merely stirred restlessly but the first sat straight up. Blond hair stood out broadly in the dark, amber eyes glinted with non-existing light as they darted from side to side, searching for something.  
  
The other person finally sat up, huge violet eyes opening a crack to look up through golden hair that turned to black then crimson. He shivered unconsciously and pulled the few rags he wore closer around himself.  
  
"Jouno, what's wrong," He whispered," do you feel something?"  
  
The other nodded silently and slowly stood, pulling his companion up with him.  
  
"When I say run," he instructed with a quiet whisper as if he were trying to hide their conversation from the wind itself, "We'll go left out of the alley." The blond became more urgent as he held the other who seemed to be nothing but a child.   
  
The boy talking had a fierce aura that floated around him. He had a wild spirit, not to be tamed by anyone, the heart of a lion and the bravery and pride to match. But though his first impressions were as fierce as they could get, this teenager also had a different, milder side. He had the loyalty and playfulness of a dog and, sadly, the life of one as well.  
  
The other that he hovered around protectively was very different. Sweet, caring, thoughtful, shy, and, at the moment, terrified. He had a child like innocence positively radiating off of him like body heat. Mostly soft-spoken, almost never raising his voice, he could easily be compared to child and easily mistaken as one as well.  
  
The boy's name was Yuugi and, even at fifteen years of age, he was still below the five-foot mark and if that wasn't unusual enough, his hair was even more strange. Golden bangs and black locks that spiked on their own accord and then turned to a sharp crimson or violet colour (no one could actually tell whether it was red, purple or a mix of both.)  
  
But the boy's most striking feature was not his height or his hair or his innocence, but the large amethyst eyes that adorned his face and shone like stars on the velvety night sky. One could get lost within their infinite depths and some actually have. Yuugi's eyes were his gift given to him by the gods; one look into his deep violet orbs and he could control anyone's mind.  
  
Of course, Yuugi was still inexperienced with his gift, unable to control anything more advance than a child of five floods and even then he could only hold onto their mind for an hour at most before collapsing completely. Not that he ever used his gift much; perhaps helping calm a distressed mother's baby but that was it.  
  
The second was known as Jouno who had eyes hair and skin like gold and a fire in his soul fiercer than any other. He was tall, due mostly to long legs and his hair always seemed to be out of place. He had a gift too, not uncommon to many priests and priestesses of the temples of the gods. But his power was stronger than theirs, though he himself was not a priest. He was born with the power to sense.   
  
He could feel magic when it was near. It was a natural sense to him like smelling or tasting so he was a virtual metal detector when it came to the unworldly science of magic, being able to identify each and every power, how strong it was and how evil or good it was. This gift was handy to him seeing as every human's soul had magic no matter how dim it may be, but the furthest he could reach using most of his energy was only a mile at most (This was still far seeing as how others with this power can only reach within 100 feet of where they're standing.)  
  
A slight noise was heard, nothing more than a pebble rolling across the ground but Jono knew instantly it was nothing so innocent. He let go of Yuugi and braced himself, and then with a deep shaky breath, he whispered one word: "Run!"  
  
And they both took off like a shot, forward then left heading straight for the city walls. A curse was heard and then dogs started to bark, startled, as the silence was broken abruptly. The sounds of running steps could be heard clearly now, not just Yuugi and Jouno's but two other pairs as well.   
  
Torches flickered to life and faces appeared in the windows of many of the stone buildings to peek what was happening in their usually peaceful city. It was clear to both boys, as they ran trying to conceal themselves in shadows, that they were being perused. Both were terribly frightened of being caught though Jouno tried to hide it for the sake of Yuugi as he ran a step behind his friend keeping his eyes on him at all times lest he lost him somehow. There was no way he would allow Yuugi to be separated from him. Jouno swore to protect his small friend and he would keep his promise even if it killed him. Yuugi was the only thing he had, the person who had helped him through years of still unhealed pain that his master had inflicted to him both physically and mentally. Yuugi was his savior, his oasis, and if he were to go, so would Jouno  
  
Yuugi on the other hand didn't bother to hide his fear. Hot tears streamed down his face as he tore down the street, rocks and sand stinging at his bare feet and legs. Jouno meant the world to him having saved him from a group of bandits who had slaughtered his entire village before his eyes. The young blond had rescued him but it was too late to save his family who were turned to ashes along with his home in a fire caused by the bandits.  
  
They had traveled together after that, up the Nile to the great city of the Pharaoh of lower and Upper Egypt hoping to become apprentices in a small business and live their lives in peace. No such luck yet and there they were now being chased by anything from palace guards to the same bandits that had attacked their village.  
  
There were two that followed them swiftly, gaining fast. The first was a sinister soul with skin and hair of the whitest ivory. Very foreign to the blistering Egyptian sun. It's as if he'd lived his entire life in a dark cold place. His eyes were bitter and brown, slanted in a deadly gaze. Everyone said he had the eyes of a murderer and every person was correct. He was long legged, much like Jouno, with deadly movements like a snake.  
  
He wore a cloak to conceal these traits and it flapped behind him as the wind was swept up and whirled around him madly. His breath came steadily and sparingly; he was talented when it came to a chase even in his heavy clothing.  
  
This teenager, who couldn't have been older than eighteen, was known far and wide as Death's Angel; stealer of life, the night's child, and a merciless murderer.   
  
He had been a tomb robber previously, the best around at that. It was rumored that he had stolen from every tomb on the Nile and then some. His hands killed thousands of men, hundreds of tombs were raided and never had he been caught. Not until he tried to take the ultimate prize, the final brush stroke on his masterpiece. To rob the most heavily guarded tomb in all of Egypt. King Akunamukanon; the Pharaoh's father.   
  
He attempted this deathly feet with much confidence, very sure of the kind of things guarding the tomb. Men, animals such as tigers or something as fierce perhaps, but that was certainly not what he found.   
  
Instead, monsters attacked him, creatures of the shadows from a realm no man should have known of. He was, of course, over powered but instead of being killed he was brought to the Pharaoh himself. He knew the price of his crimes was death, but the Pharaoh had other ideas. He was not going to let such talent go to waste.   
  
The Pharaoh struck a deal. He spared his life if the thief served him. His cat like nature and grace could be useful. Head guard of the city, commander of every guard in the palace. His own fleet to do only good with. He had taken the job grudgingly but swore as well that he WOULD get his revenge on the young ruler.   
  
But as years passed, the teen, though his bitterness never diminished, slowly redeemed his soul and both him and the Pharaoh developed a mutual respect towards one another. But though this teenager, Bakura, didn't exactly want to KILL the Pharaoh anymore, he still craved to spite the young man in any way he could.  
  
Bakura's gift was very unique in most temples of the Nile. He had the strange and wonderful talent of silencing. With enough concentrated energy he could silence each breath, every heartbeat, every sound within a ten-mile radius. His gift had always been faithful to him; never had anyone heard him as he slit their throat, no one had heard him as he robbed the largest tombs of Egypt. Not until that Pharaoh and his monsters came along. But his power was useless in this case now; the prey had heard the predator, now all that was left was the kill.  
  
The person behind him was different. While Bakura was, most of the time, very calm and collected, confident in every step he took, this teenager, also of eighteen, had the energy of ten children, plus a dagger (a very lethal combination indeed.) He had hair the colour of the sand they lived on and skin that would shame cocoa beans. He was well muscled, his chest was bare but his legs covered with baggy black linen and a purple cloak chased after him.  
  
And then there were his eyes, a lilac colour and very narrow like Bakura's but different. If one were to look into them they wouldn't think of innocence like Yuugi's eyes or murderer like Bakura's but instead they would instantly think insanity.  
  
This teenager was, in fact, as crazy as he looked, but still incredibly skilled. His recklessness and joy for seeing blood on his hands plus his speed and talent made him the perfect candidate for his line of work in which he had to expect the unexpected. He was a tomb keeper, a descendant of a clan that kept watch over the Pharaoh's tombs. He'd met many people in his line of work, including Bakura as the white haired thief fled from the site of a queen's final resting place.  
  
Marik and a few of his clan had cornered Bakura in a nearby temple and they had fought all through the night. The blood was thick on the ground the next morning and the only left alive, still fighting dagger to dagger, were Bakura and the tomb keeper, Marik. But Bakura eventually won, doing so by breaking Marik's leg and making a run for it. Marik had been confused as to why Bakura hadn't killed him while he was vulnerable but he had no way to find out.  
  
Five months after they had met, Marik witnessed Bakura's capture. He had laughed when he realized he'd be working for the thief that had mangled him leaving him useless for two weeks as healing magic wove his wounds and bones together again.  
  
It had been a good move though; Bakura keeping Marik alive. The two were a virtually unstoppable team. Whenever Marik was on a break from tomb keeping, him and Bakura would prowl the streets, killing the occasional bandit and keeping "peace". Lately, about a month since Marik went on another break, the two had been collecting anyone on the streets after dark. The homeless teenagers and younger adults were going to be given as gifts to the entire royal court in honor of the Nile floods that had produced the best harvest in many years. Villagers had been forced to give themselves as tributes and the dungeons had been filled with more than enough slaves by now.  
  
But these two were perfect for the job. The blond seemed as if he had the perfect amount of muscle- he'd be perfect for working on the current Pharaoh's tomb. But not just that, he had such beauty as well! Who knew, he might be chosen for breeding instead. And the other was beautiful as well. Delicate as a rose so small and innocent, there was no doubt he'd be chosen for the most feared position known. To fulfill the lust of greedy nobles and council members. Many shuddered at the thought of living there life in that way, but it was better than being put to death for rebelling, right?  
  
Jouno skidded to a halt at the end of the alley, nearly crashing into the stone wall. He looked to his side then up but it was no use. They were trapped. Yuugi tripped as he joined his friend's side and squeaked as he flew forward, landing in a heap by the wall. The taller bent down, his messy blond hair falling in his face and lifted his friend up while pondering his choices.   
  
There was a pile of unstable looking pots stacked up in a corner and a window carved into the side of the building some ten feet up and three feet from the pots. He could scramble up the pots and make the jump for the window of course, but would Yuugi make it? No. There had to be another idea, SOMETHING had to help them escape . . . Nothing came to him.  
  
The footsteps came closer, thumping against the dirt covered ground, the sound indistinguishable from their hearts. Yuugi clung to Jouno's arm tightly and he could feel the tremors running through his little friend's body, as they stood there completely helpless. Jouno realized now that the only way he was going to protect Yuugi was to fight whoever was trying to reach them.  
  
So, as the two shadow pressers turned the corner, Jouno shoved Yuugi behind him who gave a startled yelp, and then he whirled and faced his enemy. Daggers glinted orange with torchlight that now lit some of the sandstone buildings. A few people watched cautiously from some nearby windows and doors but none dare venture outside lest these men decided to kill them instead of their prisoners.  
  
Jouno grit his teeth and glared a thousand knives at the hooded figures as they approached. He was unarmed, untrained, hurt, exhausted and there were two of them and only one of him. He didn't know what to do, he needed help, but Yuugi had no idea how to fight- they were both helpless.   
  
Nothing happened for a moment and an odd tenseness hung around them. Bakura relaxed his muscles and tightened the grip on his dagger, preparing for the final step in this chase and Jouno squeezed his hands into fists, growling threateningly. But Marik was first to make a move. He rushed forward like water being released from a dam and jumped just before he reached Jouno, disappearing over his head. Jouno looked up quickly, trying to see where he went, a big mistake. Bakura followed suit, the same force being released and the same speed, but he didn't jump. Instead he grabbed Jouno's arm and twisted it painfully behind his back locking him in a vulnerable position Jouno didn't see coming at all.   
  
The blond's mouth twisted in a silent scream and he tried to claw at Bakura with nonexistent nails bit to the bone from a nervous habit, but it was in vain. In the span of a few seconds he had been defeated. He'd failed. Yuugi was completely unprotected now and on top of that, his arm was starting to go numb with pain. One well placed hit in the head with the hilt of an unseen dagger and he was on the ground, barely registering a bone shattering crash of clay and a scream of panic . . .  
  
-,-'-,-'-,-'--  
  
. . The wind lost interest in the capture, the likes of which it had witnessed numerous times before, so it decided to cut through the brittle sandstone buildings until it reached the north point of the city where entirely different events were occurring. This street was unlit, unaware of the commotion happening but a few minutes away and all was relatively peaceful.  
  
The wind hit the wall gently, stirring locks of white hair, its purity tainted slightly by something red and thick; blood. It paused slowly then ran over the body of a sleeping boy, touching small white scars and bigger red and pink puckered scars then blowing the small amount of blood that had gathered around the boy across the dirt. The teen shivered very slightly as the sudden breeze and curled up a little more. As he did this, the wind finished its quiet inspection and finally it went on, diving over the wall and disappearing into the desert night.   
  
A small pale hand twitched and then clenched. A ragged cough escaped a raw throat. Bloodshot eyes opened to the velvet black sky; the teen was awake. He sat up slowly, wincing as pain shot through his body, ending in a sharp ache in his head. Memories flashed before his eyes quickly as blood ran down the back of his neck; a large faceless man standing before him, the distant crack of a whip, pain and a scream. A strangled gurgle and blood. So much blood.  
  
And then he was back to reality, sitting on his knees and shaking, staring at his blood drenched hands. Tears welled in his eyes and he dragged his swollen red arm across his face to wipe them away. He spent a moment slumped near the wall, trying to banish the horrible memories from his head to no avail when a whispering hiss sounded somewhere near. He looked up quickly, his hair falling into his face, but made no effort to move it as he listened carefully for the sound again.   
  
Another whisper and thoughts started to fly into his head. A ghost. . .that man he had- had- he couldn't think about it anymore. A sob escaped his lips and he stood up shakily, keeping his body pressed to the wall to steady himself.   
  
Two figures slid from the shadows of a small building and the boy started to tremble, one of his ankles creaking slightly from stiff bones. He gave a gasp as they approached, too quickly for his liking, and sunk back to the ground.  
  
"Interesting one don't you think," One of them said in a strange voice that sounded more camel than human. The other didn't answer, just continued to come nearer. The teen swallowed hard and wondered whom these people were and how he was going to get away. They scared him and he had had enough terror to last him a lifetime by now. His eyes strayed down to their strange clothing but snapped back to their faces just as quickly. His curiosity would get him killed someday but he had to admit, their appearances were strange. They were dressed in faded brown ripped pants and oddly shaped black sandals. Their shirts seemed more like sheets draped in odd ways across their chests and then flowing out behind them. They wore some kind of black kohl around their eyes and small bones stood out broadly tied in long ebony hair and clanking softly with each step.  
  
One of these people, the shorter of them, stepped in front of the boy who gave a strangled cry and scooted away. Though it was hard to see the persons face in the dark, he could tell that an eyebrow had been raised at his strange behavior.  
  
"What's your name?" The question was even and said in a silky smooth voice that revealed nothing to the boy but the fact that this person was not a man but a woman. The white-haired teen said nothing for a while as he contemplated whether he would rather die right then and there or run first then die. He bit his lip and decided it would cause too much pain to excerpt himself to such extent and allowed a soft dry, "Ryou," to escape his parched throat.  
  
She stood still, whispering the foreign sounding name a couple of times to herself until she decided she knew it and narrowed her eyes at Ryou. The boy rose to shaky legs by now and gripped the wall until his knuckles were white as she looked him up and down. Ryou couldn't tell whether he was taller or shorter than her giving the fact he was only half standing and couldn't see her very well anyway but it didn't matter. Ryou whimpered and the camel-man grunted, startling the white-haired teen that had forgotten his presence. The man stepped forth and uncurled a rope from around his waist, smirking sadistically at the child before him.   
  
The woman held a muscled arm before the man's belly, preventing him from taking another step closer, which Ryou thanked her for in the back of his mind but remained tense in case she just wanted to capture him herself.   
  
The woman pushed a tendril of hair behind her ear and placed her hands on her hips, "Who is your master, boy?" She hissed. Ryou flinched at the sudden harshness that interrupted the strange silence and pulled himself up some more shaking bloody hair from his eyes.  
  
"I-I don't have a master," He said uncertainly keeping his eyes on the rope swinging from the man's large hands, "I've been living off the streets and-"  
  
"Liar!" She hissed, cutting Ryou off who snapped his mouth shut and slid a couple of inches. The woman took a long calming breath and raked her eyes over the teen that had tears brimming in his eyes. After a few minutes of the quiet inspection, she straightened herself and cleared her throat.  
  
"You shouldn't lie little boy, I can read you like a book." She paused to let the words sink in to the terrified boy's head before continuing. "You're a slave in a large, rich dwelling though one of the only that work there. You reside in the kitchen and. . .in the bedroom and your master is very reckless. Possibly the effects of excessive amounts of wine. You ran away one, maybe two, nights ago from a village not incredibly far away but still far enough to be safe. . .for now."  
  
Ryou slid again, this time staying on the ground as he looked up at the woman with wide eyes. It was true, every last word. But how had she known? Who was she? Had she been spying on him? A hundred questions whirled through his head and he opened his mouth to ask how she knew only to be cut off again by a sharp growl.  
  
"It's obvious little boy," She sneered snatching the rope from the camel-man who gave a disappointed grunt and folded his arms across his chest, "Your thin and your legs are moderately muscled so I assume you did a lot of walking, most likely up and down stairs. In a small home you wouldn't need to walk as far from one room to the other. Your hands are blistered and burned from a stove or hot water but you have more burns than average kitchen slaves so you must have done more work."   
  
Ryou was wide eyed staring at the woman. She was brilliant! She knew exactly what he did and what he was and he'd only just met her. It wasn't possible. The woman took a step forward and her smile broadened as Ryou tried to stand up again to no avail.  
  
"There are bruises on your legs in one general area so I suppose a rather large person sat about there more than once and, of course, there's blood on your pants along your inner thigh," She was taunting him now, smiling at his pain, teasing him for the torture she knew all about. Tears welled up in Ryou's chocolate eyes along with memories of endless nights and unbearable pain. He looked down wishing she'd stop and kill him now. He didn't want to live with it anymore.  
  
But she continued anyway, "You're hurt and bear a lot of old scars; your master beat you on a regular basis. None are hidden or cleaned up which another slave would have been ordered to do or he would do himself in case he ever needed you to be pretty to sell," Laughter flashed in her eyes and the camel-man was grinning sadistically again, "Your bleeding feet and exhausted appearance tell me you've been running none stop for quite a while. I'm right, aren't I?"  
  
She ended her evaluation with a note of triumph in her voice and Ryou realized she was standing right in front of him now, but he didn't care. Tears fell freely down his face and he was starting to taste the bile rising in his throat. He didn't say anything as his wrists were grabbed and tied with the rope she had been fingering. A gag was shoved into his mouth and he coughed around it and started to completely sob as the past night's events finally hit him with such force he thought he would be crushed. The woman said nothing, only pulled the rope and, with a pained muffled cry, Ryou flew forward and landed at their feet.  
  
"That was easy," the woman mocked, "All he needed was to hear of his life own and he's as broken as he can get." The camel-man nodded silently, looking down at the pitiful shaking boy at his feet. Annoyance settled on his rough features and he turned away from them. "Let's just get him to the palace before the guards find us."  
  
_-,-'-,-'-,-'--_  
  
**Author's Note:** First chapter finished. I know, someone whack me over the head right now. Silly me to be starting another fic when I haven't updated FPCL . Oh well! This chapter is sort of too long to be a prologue..definatly actually. I just wanted to set the scene and introduce a few of the characters. I'm sorry to say I don't think some of them are quite developed yet. I mean, just last night I redesigned one charcter's appearence(to be introduced in the next chapter). I know I'm going against all of my beliefs by putting this chapter out before everything is developed enough but it's has been sitting around for so long I just HAD to post it. I think I'll be about set with the entire storyline(in which some details are still foggy) by the fourth chapter at the least.   
  
Please be gentle if you notice things about the characters that aren't correct in the canon. This story is rather AU even for an ancient Egyptian fic so more than a few things have been altered (not in a bad way mind you. Most of the alterations are very insignificant.)  
  
Speaking of alterations:  
  
Five floods - Basically, five years. The Nile floods every spring. Egyptian marked year this way (and by the apperence of the star Sirius? Just before it happens)  
  
Jouno - This, if you haven't already guessed is Jounouchi. I changed his name slightly.  
  
Bakura's description - Again, this is a very AU ancient Egyptian fic.

An extra note - Pairings include: Seth/Jouno, Atemu/Yugi, Bakura/Ryou, Malik/Marik, and Katsu/Kaia(REBD/BEWD. . .This will make sense later)

R&R please!


	2. The Song That Death Silently Sings

**_Under the Egyptian Moon  
_**  
_Written by Silver Sage  
_  
_Summary:_ Thousands of years ago, during a dynasty long forgotten, there lived eight souls different from those of the human race. These eight individuals lived apart from everyone else in a class all their own. Each had been given a gift by the gods themselves and they were all very different, but one thread of magic was slowly bringing them together.  
  
They had been pulled to the center of one of the most powerful countries of the world, Egypt. A mysterious force had slowly guided them across desert and water alike, to a city at the center of a great circle of magic. Eight different hearts and minds had been drawn there, and were all unknowingly about to collide, clash and, if the gods had their way, bond with one another. The evil of the world was growing stronger and these eight had been chosen to stop it.   
  
-'-,-'-,-'-,-  
  
The thing that Yuugi remembered most about his stay in the palace dungeon wasn't who the guards were or how many people resided there. He could barely remember the horrible smells that hung heavily in the air; those of sweat and blood that could be sensed over any other waste he smelled. He didn't feel the hot air smothering him or hear the earsplitting screams emitting from unseen rooms.  
  
What he did remember was sobbing into his best friend's bare chest as he lay unmoving on the dirty floor; the pitying, tired looks he received from other prisoners and even some guards, barely visible by the dim, flickering light of torches; the overwhelming fear that engulfed him as he studied his small stone cell and imagined the horrible things that would happen to him and Jouno in that place.  
  
It wasn't until he had finally stopped crying and the screams had mostly died down to low moans that he realized that he and Jouno weren't alone in their prison. He had laid his head down to rest in the crook of his friend's neck and he was studying the room with watering eyes when a glint of pinkish white caught his attention. Yuugi's eyes darted to the side and looked closely at the corner until he saw exactly what it was. Hair, a mass of white messy hair with red splashed across it, attached to a very still body.  
  
He sat up slowly, fearing the worst of this unknown stranger. "H-Hello?" he ventured. "Who's there?"  
  
The thing he assumed to be a person shifted and slowly raised its head. Distressed, weary, frightened, and otherwise dead chocolate brown eyes met soft, shining violet. Yuugi gasped. The guard! What was he doing in the cell? But, no, this couldn't be him. He didn't see the guard enter the cell with them and. . .His eyes strayed to the blood on the floor and he let a quiet, "Oh," escape his throat. He was hurt.  
  
A low groan suddenly broke the frightening silence. Yuugi jumped in surprise, snapping his head back down to Jouno, whose face was contorted in pain.  
  
"Jouno!" Yuugi cheered happily, tears returning to his eyes. He was all right! Or, at least, not dead, which was all Yuugi wanted. The small boy launched himself into his friend's arms, forgetting about the mysterious young man not five feet away from them, and Jouno groaned more loudly. He brought his fingers up to brush against the back of his head and then brought them back to eye level.  
  
Blood. . . Lots of it.  
  
Jouno looked like he was going to be sick as he looked away from his hand. He'd always been tough and a great fighter, but for some reason unknown to Yuugi, his friend had always had a thing about seeing his own blood. Yuugi looked on worriedly, his brows furrowed, his eyes shining with unshed tears, and his arms still tightly around the older teen.  
  
"Jouno, I thought you were dead! Are you hurt? Is that blood?! Oh, Jouno, I'm so scared, what are we going to do?!" he said frantically, so quickly that Jouno could only discern a few words. Jouno pushed the urge to throw up to the back of his mind and forced a fake smile, patting Yuugi's back reassuringly.   
  
"Everything will be fine, Yuugi. You know I'll always keep you safe," he said with only enough false confidence to fool a child. Yuugi bought it completely.  
  
"I know you will, Jouno. Thanks." He buried his head in his friend's shoulder. As the torches were extinguished, Jouno looked down at him with wonder in his eyes and a slightly amused smile on his lips. Yuugi's been alive for fifteen floods, he thought a little distantly, and he still acts like a kid. It was amazing to Jouno that all that innocence could stay with Yuugi even after what he'd been through.  
  
And then a strange sound - whimpering - met Jouno's ever-alert ears, as well as the feeling of magic creeping over his skin like a cool breeze. The feeling had come so suddenly, like his magic had been turned off for a few moments after he had awoken and then suddenly he could feel it all at once. The magic of people in cells around them, guards, and very strong magic he could only feel distantly. Well, he had established one thing; they were somewhere where a lot of magic users resided, strong magic users. It was giving him a splitting headache. He guessed, though, that it wouldn't hurt him so much once his head wound had healed a little.  
  
But then there was that light breezy feeling, and for a moment Jouno thought that it was all a dream, and the Nile air was there cooling him, urging him to start traveling once again with Yuugi, but the thought was abandoned almost instantly and he was groping with his mind to find the source of that comforting feeling. It didn't take long for his mind to grasp the magic.   
  
It was just a small wisp, like bits of cloud being emitted from a corner of the room, and he knew it couldn't be Yuugi's because his was more like a light that warmed your very soul when it was at its strongest. Jouno's was different too. It danced and leaped from his soul like fire, and was just as spontaneous. One moment it could be nothing but a small flame, and the next it could be worse than the fire that had burned Yuugi's village to the ground.  
  
Up until now, the only magic that had their own, almost physical forms were his and Yuugi's, but now there was this. What was it? He had to know.  
  
The blond made to move towards the source of the magic, but stopped when he remembered the small weight leaning against him. He looked down to find Yuugi's eyes closed, salty tear trails still fresh on his face, and his breathing even. Jouno lifted his slumbering friend gently and laid him on the floor as slowly as he could before standing and facing the wisping magic's source.  
  
The magic was peculiar to him. For one as he moved closer, the breeze became more like the feeling of mist(something he had experienced only once in his life). He forced the lump in his throat to dissipate and his head to stop spinning before slowly creeping deeper into the 'mist'. When the magic suddenly pulsed, Jouno found himself stopping in his tracks and staring at the dark with wide eyes. Pulsing was not good. If magic pulsed it meant someone's life-energy, the reserves in one's body their magic formed from, was running dangerously low.   
  
The magic's master was dying.   
  
Without really thinking he found himself calling for someone to help him and whoever this magic belonged to. It wasn't until he realized that no one was going to help a couple of street urchins that he dropped to the ground and began groping in the pitch blackness until his fingers touched skin.  
  
He dragged himself to the person's side and began shaking him in an effort to awaken him. It would surely be the end of him if he slipped into complete unconsciousness. Jouno became utterly relieved at the sound of a whimpered "Please stop".  
  
"Kid, you in there? Wake up."   
  
A small groan, a fluttering of eyelids. He was awake, and Jouno couldn't have been happier than he was in that dingy little cell. Now all he had to do was make sure not one drop of magic would be used until he could heal a little. Easy enough, but first, to figure out what said magic was being used for in the first place.  
  
"Hey, what's your name?" Keep him awake, he thought, must keep him wide awake. That first, healing later. The boy looked up through bleary chocolate brown eyes, half glazed over. Jouno bit his lip.  
  
"L-last time I told someone that. . ." His words were slow, thick, and very quiet. Jouno had to lean closer. ". . .I was brought here. . ." He trailed off and Jouno couldn't help but feel a little sympathetic. This boy seemed so. . . afraid of something. And, gods, he looked so distressed. Something wasn't right here.  
  
He pushed the hair in the boy's face aside as gently as he could. Being with Yuugi had to have made him a little soft and he could use that right now. "Don't be afraid, I want to help you." He was wary to venture forth, making sure that at least a little trust flashed in the boys eyes. He knew the trust was going to be hesitant and forced, that the boy would create it because what he desperately needed was for someone to be kind, but it would do.  
  
". . . Ryou," he finally whispered. Jouno almost had to ask him to repeat it, it was so quiet. He thought better of it, though. The name didn't matter; he was answering questions, that was good. He had his trust.  
  
"Good, good, can you tell me if you were using-" He paused. The boy's eyes had closed again. He shook him. The eyes opened. "You need to stay awake. Here, I'll make this quick." A foggy smile. Amazing, the boy could still show emotion even on the brink of. . .death.  
  
No, he wouldn't think of that. One step at a time. "Were you using any magic?" Of course he was using magic, Jouno could feel it. He knew it was there. The question was, did the boy know? If he did then it would be easy enough to make him shut it off. If he didn't. . .well, then he wouldn't have any way to shut it off and would ultimately (Jouno swallowed hard) die.  
  
But, to his relief, the boy - Ryou or Lyou? - nodded his head weakly, his face contorted in a feeble grimace. Jouno started to stroke his hair in comfort and leaned forward again. "Okay, kid, I need you to do something about your magic for me. Will you?"  
  
The boy looked scared again, like the thought of doing something to interrupt his magic flow would hurt him. But after a moment, in which Jouno started to become nervous about whether the boy was going to cooperate, he nodded again. Jouno smiled. "Okay, close your eyes, but don't go to sleep, just close them, like that, good." He stopped a moment and closed his own eyes. This part was tricky and he'd only done it three or four times in his entire life. He hated it; it hurt his head like hell.  
  
"All right, now all I want you to do is focus on your magic. Just try to find the focal point. Can you do that?" He nodded once again, the last time that night. Jouno swallowed through a dry throat; this was the hard part. If he wasn't extremely careful, both of them could become hopelessly sick. The boy could very well die. He leaned close, lips almost touching the other boy's. Breath unconsciously held, he whispered, "Give me your magic." And, all at once, Ryou's body convulsed and arched, and a thin, weak wisp of magic streamed from his slightly parted lips to Jouno's. It didn't last long. A minute at most, and then the world went black for them both.  
  
-'-,-'-,-'-,-  
  
Two weeks passed. The boy didn't wake up until well into the third day. When he did, both Yuugi and Jouno were dining on some unidentified slime that they received once a day as 'nourishment'. The short whine from the corner startled Yuugi so much that his bowl of slime went skidding across the floor from his hands. Jouno's head shot up and he dropped his food, forgetting it on the floor with the already thick coat of other unidentified substances from years past.  
  
The boy, while weak, was functional enough to eat and sit up and tell his name (Jouno finally established that it was indeed Ryou, rather than Lyou). He explained to Jouno, who had been very curious as to what kind of magic the boy could have been using that night, that he was trying to heal himself. Yuugi pointed out that even if Jouno had left him alone, he would have been fine, using his reserves to give himself strength, using them all over again in an perpetual circle. For some reason, this was amusing to all three, and as they laughed there in the corner, their unease seemed to almost disappear.  
  
Almost.  
  
Another nine days later, the three were in the dark corner opposite where Ryou used to lie. Jouno and Yuugi both leaned against a cold, rough wall, and Ryou lay on his back before them, looking up at the dark ceiling. For hours it seemed they had been deep in conversation regarding matters that were worth absolutely nothing. On occasion, a more significant question like "Where did you come from?" would arise and be answered (some details excluded) politely. Then, the conversation would take a sharp left turn and become completely pointless again.  
  
It was during that conversation that it was finally revealed to them why they were in the cell.  
  
"Yuugi?" Ryou ventured quietly, looking shyly up at the smaller boy. Yuugi smiled slightly, mouthing a "Yeah?" Ryou looked as though he were on the verge of saying something important. After a moment, he shook his head. "Never mind. It's nothing."   
  
Yuugi looked disappointed and pouted slightly, crossing his arms. "Come on, tell me!"  
  
Ryou bit his lip and lifted himself to his elbows. "What was it like having- Not. . .not being a slave?"  
  
Jouno shifted a little uneasily in his spot as Yuugi looked up at him with sad eyes. Ryou sat up and looked down at his lap. "You-you don't have to answer if it hurts too much. I'd understand." He looked up at his newfound friend. Yuugi shook his head frantically and leaned forward on his hands. "It's okay Ryou. I suppose. . .I'd be curious too-"  
  
"Listen up, rats!" someone barked loudly from outside their cell and Ryou and Yuugi convulsively leapt forward, crashing into Jouno at the same time. The blond groaned, but put his arms around their shoulders nevertheless. "I wish you wouldn't do that, you guys." They looked up sheepishly.  
  
"When we get upstairs, if I see even one of you street whores out of line, you're all going to have to answer to me!" Both faces were buried again and neither saw the whip crack, but they all heard it. With that frightening sound, Jouno tightened his grasp, ducking his head between his two friends. Then there was a clank of metal against metal and the creak of a door thirsty for an oiling. In an instant, Jouno felt his newest friend torn from his side. He shot up instantly as did Yuugi, both in time to see Ryou scream as he was dragged away by the hair. Jouno sprang forward, tackling the dirty man and dragging them all to the ground. The man released his grip on Ryou's hair with an anguished roar and knocked the blond upside the head.  
  
Jouno rebounded quickly and his fist instantly came down on the man, hitting him in the face with bone shattering force. The man yelled again, shoving Jouno off of him with enough strength to knock him into a wall. "I paid good money for that boy, and I ain't lettin' some street punk like you-" His sentence was cut short when Jouno sprang forward again, thrusting his palm against the man's face and sending his head smashing into the wall behind him.  
  
It was only after the man was knocked out (or killed, Jouno thought distantly) that three guards rushed into the cell to find the mess before them. Jouno stood over the man, panting and holding his wrist, his face red and brow creased. There was a rough pull on his shoulder and he came face to face with a steel-like punch to his left eye. Right before he stumbled back to fall against the wall, he caught sight of his friends looking on horrified from behind the crushing grips of two of the guards.  
  
"Get up and start walking. Resistance is twenty lashes." They felt shackles close around their ankles and they were each pulled forward into into a line of forty or more teenagers and young adults.  
  
"Jouno!" The whip cracked. Yuugi cried out in pain.  
  
"No, stop that! You bastard!" Jouno rammed himself against the wielder of the whip. Five more cracks, and there was one neat line of blood trailing down Jouno's spine adorned with lesser pink welts. The entire group fell silent.  
  
-,-'-,-'-,-'-  
  
**Author's Notes:** And so it begins! . Big thanks to my reviewers! And a huge Domo Arigatou to the wonderful, beautiful, talented Lethe Seraph-sama, the beta of this chapter! You helped so much!  
  
That's all I have to say. . .Thanks again!  
  
And until next time. . .  
  
Be who you are and say what you feel because those who mind don't matter, and those who matter don't mind.  
  
-Dr. Suess


	3. Blemished Skin and the Slightest Wince

**Under the Egyptian Moon**  
  
_Written by Silver Sage_  
  
_Summary:_ Thousands of years ago, during a dynasty long forgotten, there lived eight souls different from those of the human race. Eight individuals that lived apart from everyone else in a class all their own. Each had been given a gift by the gods themselves and they were all very different, but one thread of magic was slowly bringing them together.  
  
They had been pulled to the center of one of the most powerful countries of the world, Egypt. A mysterious force had slowly guided them across desert and water alike, to a city at the center of a great circle of magic. Eight different hearts and minds had been drawn there, and were all unknowingly about to collide, clash and, if the gods had their way, bond with one another. The evil of the world was growing stronger and these eight had been chosen to stop it.   
  
-'-,-'-,-'-,---  
  
Jouno, Yuugi, and Ryou had been lined up one right behind the other with ropes connecting their ankles. Yuugi was the one who stumbled the most out of the three, each time tugging painfully at the bonds therefore creating the beginnings of ugly bruised ankles. Ropes bit into tied wrists viciously. Whimpers, whines and the crack of whips were heard occasionally, but ignored by most. Nothing could be seen around them except for the sandstone walls of whatever hall they were in, the flickering torches and the heads off whatever captive was before them. All else was dark and forbidding.  
  
The forty prisoners did not stop until they reached a grand wooden door at the end of a particularly painful climb of stairs. They were ordered to keep their mouths shut and remain still. For an hour or more they waited there. Their ankles ached and itched, their wrist started to bleed and their resolves leaving them. It was at the peak of their immense fright that the door before them swung open to pour almost blinding light on their eyes.   
  
-'-,-'-,-'-,---  
  
The Pharaoh was bored.   
  
Not a good thing considering Pharaoh Atemu was notorious for impatience, and on top of that, a short-temper. And though he sat perfectly erect during the ceremony, his face pulled into a trade-mark scowl as he watched dancers, musicians, and all other matter of performers, underneath he was screaming for the torture to stop so he could finally go to sleep after such a long day.  
  
But he was Pharaoh; Pharaoh did not beg for release, no matter how arduous the task. Though he would admit, almost any other man would have broken down by this time. He couldn't help but think back bitterly to the morning where he had gotten news that the countries across the Red sea were on the brink of declaring war (as if Atemu would let those amateur magic users get their hands on his empire); another tomb of one of the richest queens to ever grace Kemet was robbed; six of the tomb-keeper clan were killed; and a student mage had blown up half of the west quarters.   
  
Now, after straightening out each mess and seeing off the princess of a neighboring country after having dealt with her constant fawning and cooing over him for a month, he had to sit through this tedious celebration (of what he couldn't quite remember) for another hour at the least.   
  
Sometimes he really hated life.  
  
"You look positively ecstatic to be here my Pharaoh," A smooth, sharp-as-ice voice noted from his left. He didn't blink, not at all surprised at Set's sudden appearance from the shadows. After all, he had known his high priest and half-cousin all his life.  
  
"Oh I am," He responded confidently, albeit sarcastically, his face remaining impassive, "and when is this event supposed to end?"   
  
The priest took to leaning against the throne, idly tapping a glinting golden rod against his thigh. He closed his eyes, no doubt trying to recall information on the end of this ceremony.  
  
"One more task left, Pharaoh," He opened his eyes to look down at his cousin. "It seems they're giving away more slaves as gifts for the flooding of the Nile." His tone was amused, Atemu was just annoyed.  
  
"Slaves?" The Pharaoh balked, unsuccessfully holding back a sigh, "As if we don't already have enough in the palace. . .Don't you think they could just kill the miserable rats?" All he received for this questions was a short nod because, just then, the white-haired guard of the Pharaoh's kingdom joined them accompanied by one of the tomb-robber clan that was in the palace on a. . .particularly long break.  
  
"I've just gotten word that the slaves are about to be let in," He said curtly with a triumphant grin from Marik.   
  
"Then let's get this over with already shall we?" The Pharaoh drawled, "Marik, if you'd do the honors?"  
  
With a small, happy growl, and a flick of Marik's wrist, the large wooden doors were flung open fluidly, thanks to Marik's powerful telekinesis.   
  
-'-,-'-,-'-,---  
  
There were only two events in Yuugi's life that had ever made the boy so afraid of dying. The first had been the great fire of his village a year ago. He had never been so sure that he would die than when he had felt his flesh scorched by the licking flames that had engulfed his home as he tried to find his grandfather through the suffocating smoke. To this day his back held scars to remind him of how close he had come to death . . .  
  
The second time, Yuugi was sure of, was when the wooden door before him had flown open with no help of guard or servant. It was then and there that the boy was sure he, and the only two people he had left, would die, horrible, torturous deaths. And as his mind was filled with morbid thoughts, he and his friends were, at last, yanked forward and into the all-too-bright room before them, hoping for the best, expecting the worst.  
  
But where did they arrive? The royal court. And before them sat the Pharaoh, looking for all the world to Yuugi like he. . .  
  
Was going to die of utter boredom.  
  
The small boy gasped, dropping to his knees like every other slave in the room was commanded to, and started shaking with unadulterated fear and intimidation of being before royalty of all people. Yuugi gulped.   
  
Yes, he was going to die.  
  
-'-,-'-,-'-,---  
  
Atemu had been through this sort of ceremony three times since the last flood, and no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't recall what happened in any of them. It was such a mundane and pointless task to choose a servant personally. A slave was a slave, it didn't matter who chose it, as long as it was chosen.  
  
So, the Pharaoh was torn between killing each little urchin on the spot, because the gods knew that no noble needed another slave after having so many. Or he could be the polite host and wait patiently for all of it to end.  
  
In the end, the sane portion of his mind won him over. He would not kill them today, but that didn't mean he wouldn't do everything in his power to keep this as brief as possible. The Pharaoh had first choice, along with his priest, head-guard, and best tomb-keeper. He would make his get away when the other nobles were to choose.  
  
It was announced why the slaves were to be given as gifts and Atemu stood before the court, his closest subjects just behind him like always. He gave one last annoyed glance over his shoulder at Set, then turned and swept forward  
  
-'-,-'-,-'-,---  
  
If there was one thing Jouno was good at, it was hiding his fear. The blond was usually the type to wear his emotions on his sleeve, but when it came to something the scared him, or anyone around him, he kept his face solemn and his movements careful.  
  
That was why, to any untrained eye, Jouno looked like he may fall asleep from boredom rather than die of fright like every other child there. And to every other child there, Jouno was crazy to be brave around anyone the least bit more superior than them. But Jouno didn't see any of these people as superior.  
  
When the blond was younger -thirteen floods or less- he had lived in a village far away from the Nile delta. In his village, Jouno had known what freedom and equality was. He had never met a soul who thought they were better than the rest in his small village. But as the honey-eyed boy turned from an innocent child to a self-confident, egotistical teenager, his village became more and more of a cage to him.  
  
Jouno loved his life, his family, his friends, however, he craved for more. So he left his village, where everyone was equal and life was good.   
  
And now, there he was, kneeling before a group of pompous, stuck-up bastards who never thought any man was equal, keeping an ever watchful eye on his two friends.  
  
It was getting harder and harder for the blond to hide his nervousness as he spotted several nobles eyeing Yuugi. He tried his hardest to get his small friend's attention without catching those of the slave guards, each holding a whip, to no avail.  
  
It was then that someone in a billowing purple cloak stepped before him. Jouno tried to force his eyes to stay on the floor, just before the mans feet, but he couldn't as his hair was grabbed harshly and jerked up to look into the lilac eyes of. . .  
  
The guard!  
  
A feral growl erupted from his throat before he could stop it and, much to the blonds distaste, the tomb-keeper chuckled.  
  
"What a pretty doggy you make," He commented snidely, "I like that in a slave."  
  
The blond came very close to biting back a retort, but before the words could leave his mouth, he caught sight of a man clad in gold, running his hand down Yuugi's face. No one touched Yuugi.  
  
Ever.  
  
He tore himself from his captor's grasp, shoving past the surprised, albeit strangely amused guard. There were several gasps from all around him and the thumping of boots against the marble floor as Jouno knocked the man's arm away from Yuugi's terrified face and dragged his friend to his chest protectively.  
  
It wasn't until the whips hit his back that he realized whom he had just touched.  
  
The Pharaoh.  
  
And, Re, he was mad.  
  
-'-,-'-,-'-,-  
  
It was true that Atemu couldn't remember most of the slave choosing ceremonies from his past, but what he could be sure of was that no one had ever touched him without his permission.  
  
So when that blond boy appeared from behind his tomb-keeper to knock his hand away from a potential slave, he was more than a little outraged.  
  
It took him all of twenty lashes for the Pharaoh to force his face to become impassive again. And as the whip was raised to come crashing down on the trembling body of the blond boy once again, two words rang clearly from his throat.  
  
"Kill him."  
  
An anguished scream of, "No!" bounced off the walls of the court, originating from the amethyst-eyed boy he had touch, and for the first time in four floods, Atemu flinched.  
  
-,-'-,-'-,-'-,-  
  
**Author's notes:**  
  
And here we are, chapter three : ) Oh I'm so sad. I had a spot of writers block about tiny issues in the middle of this chapter so the writing was delayed and when I finally finished it and got ready to hand it off to my beta, (Lethe Seraph-sama! Love her!) something came up and she couldn't do it ;;  
  
So erm, I'm looking for a new beta until September ()  
  
A couple of things about the new characters! As you can tell, I'm using Yami and Seto's Egyptian names (Atemu and Set, sometimes dubbed as Seth) To go along with Jouno ; ) Four of the character's histories have been revealed so far, can't wait for the next six!  
  
One last note. .for all of you Malik fans, there's a good chance he shall be introduced next chapter, but that's all I'm going to say about anything. Spoilers are bad! X3  
  
Oh yes, and I wish to thank all my lovely reviewers You guys are great! Thank you so much!

Until next time. .   
  
What if the Hokey Pokey IS what its all about?


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